Dream On
by Illusen
Summary: Every one knows Harry and Draco fight on a nearly daily basis, but no one ever expected bloodshed from them! When an obscene gesture sends the two boys "heels-over-head" down a flight of stairs, Draco gets more than he bargained for in hating Harry.
1. Chapter One

Dream On ------------------------ Chapter One  
  
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How long had it been now? Had time really slipped so quickly though his fingers? It must have been one - no, two years since he last looked into those eyes as they shut and remained so for what seemed to last as long as one hundred life times. One hundred life times that he relived each time his shy glances landed on that lean frame, that messy hair, those terribly green eyes, that scar. The vision of all his hate and love embodied in one person! Why, o why, had he been so stupid those two years ago?  
  
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"At least I don't walk around with weasels and Mudbloods, Potter," Draco said harshly in a tone more sharp than normal as he glared hatefully at Harry, Ron, Hermione and all the Gryffindors on the steps. He and Harry stood ahead of their housemates halfway up the fight of stairs.  
  
"At least I have friends. That's more than you can say for those. people," Harry replied hastily as he gestured with his hand toward the Slytherins that stood behind Draco.  
  
"Why you. you. you." at his loss for words, Draco brought his thumb to his teeth, bit gently down on it and flicked it back out toward Harry.  
  
"Do you bite your thumb as us, Malfoy?" Harry inquired.  
  
"I do bite my thumb, Potter" Draco said in response rather calmly as he curled his fingers into fists.  
  
"Do you quarrel?" Harry asked as he reached into his robes for his wand.  
  
"Quarrel with you, Potter? It's hardly worth my time," the blonde sneered as he held his pointed face as high above Harry as he could. As long as he was above Harry, he felt superior and that was his advantage.  
  
"Fight and I will back you," Harry heard Ron whisper quietly in his ear.  
  
"How, by turning your back and running?" the dark haired boy replied in a hushed voice, never taking his eyes off Draco who's smug expression was taunting him horribly to fight. He raised his voice again and directed his words at Draco, "This is just a waste of time and this fighting gets us nowhere. You may not admit it, but you know you and I keep the peace - and let's keep so."  
  
"What talk of you and I, and of peace? I hate the word as I hate all Gryffindors and you!" Draco shouted as Harry turned to continue up the stairs, "Have at me, coward!"  
  
Harry turned and glared into Draco's eyes. Fired burned in their irises and heat scorched their retinas as the fury grew between them. And, suddenly then, in one great sweeping motion, the two young men leapt at one another, hands grabbing at face and hair, wands forgotten, as their house mates watched them violently claw and swing at each other. Blood ran wine and stained the stone staircase with scars of hate.  
  
"Felon!" Draco screeched as he grabbed at Harry's collar pulling his adversary down onto the icy hard steps. They tumbled, heels over head, down the stairs with hands at each other's throats. The pain of the solid flight against their backs evoked shrieks from both their mouths until, that is, Harry landed back down, with all of Draco's weight on top of him, on a landing. All the Slytherins and Gryffindors heard the horrible sound that came next, but none so well as Draco did. A terrible crack from head against stone filled the air that bright silence to the lips of every beholder. But, not lips were so hushed as Draco's, for only he saw the pain stricken expression that crossed Harry's face before the green faded from his eyes and a thin, sticky fluid covered Draco's already bloody hands.  
  
The blonde jumped back, his front covered in his and Harry's bloods. His hands dripped with the same. What had he done? O, what blood stained the stone ascent?  
  
Kneeling back down, Draco picked up Harry's head in his arms and tucked the Gryffindor's bloodied dark hair back behind his ears that bled from the forceful impact of his skull and the stairs.  
  
"Fetch someone, anyone!" Draco shrieked to all that stood watching though offered no aid. Several people ran off in several directions. The blonde boy's gray eyes fell silently to Harry's face as Ron and Hermione stood at Harry's feet - looks of disbelief and horror covered all three of their faces. 


	2. Chapter Two

Dream On ------------------------ Chapter Two  
  
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"How is he?" Draco heard Ron asked anxiously as Hermione walked out of Madame Pomfrey's office. The brunette only shook her head and sighed before she walked - no ran off back toward the Gryffindor Tower, or so Draco supposed. Ron followed closely at her heals, leaving Draco alone outside the office. Swallowing hard, Draco stepped forward and though the office doorway. From where stood, he could see Harry lying in a bed - white sheets covering his whole body up to the middle of his chest. He snorted and, after only one look at Harry bolted from the room and down the hall in the opposite way Ron and Hermione had gone, toward the Slytherin Common Room.  
  
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It was unusually cold that night, even for mid December and from outside the highly placed windows of the Slytherin Boy's Dorm, small white flakes could be seen as the finished their decent to the earth. From where he laid, Draco could hardly see the snow in the moonlight though the window above Crabbe's bed. Normally, he'd already be asleep, but obviously, Goyle had not blown his nose in a week and his horrid snoring kept Draco wide awake. Draco dearly wanted to throw a pillow at Goyle in hopes he'd roll over and stop snoring, but the blonde had only one pillow and needed that to sleep - not that he'd fall asleep this night.  
  
More than Goyle's snoring, though, the terrible guilt that was growing in his chest was keeping him awake. Even the week of trophy cleaning with Filtch and one hundred points from Slytherin couldn't cure the rapidly building pain. It was his fault, and no one else's, that Harry was unconscious, or worse, and half-dead, bleeding from his ears. Would he be able to hear when he woke up? Alak, would he ever wake up? The thought tormented Draco as he fought feelings he dared not to feel.  
  
"I guess life's like this." he whispered to himself as he, for the hundredth time, shut his eyes and tried to sleep.  
  
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That morning, when Draco entered the Great Hall, he scanned the faces at the Gryffindor table, but did not see Harry there. With a sigh of disappointment, or of relief, Draco walked slowly toward the Slytherin table and took his usual seat between Crabbe and Goyle. He had decided the sleepless night before that he'd apologize to Harry if he was at breakfast that day. Had Harry been there, the apology would have been to embarrassing for Draco to bear. However, Draco should have known better. Even if Harry were better, Madame Pomfrey wouldn't let him out of the Hospital Wing for at least a week, if not more. He became lost in though as he glared half-angrily, half-morosely at the vacant seat at the Gryffindor table.  
  
"Draco?" he heard someone ask suddenly, snapping back to reality. He looked upward at the dirty-blonde haired young, pug-nosed woman standing behind him. Pansy Parkinson - the last person he wanted to see right now.  
  
"What?" Draco asked as with a voice like ice and eyes like snow covered mountains.  
  
"Your father will be proud of you for once now that you put Potter out of commission," she said, holding her nose high as if the triumph, if it was such, belonged to her.  
  
"Who are you to tell me what my father thinks, or will think of me?" Draco snapped loudly at her. Pansy only jeered in response. "Stay away from me," Draco said as he grabbed a piece of toast and near-shoved Pansy out of his way as he made his way toward the nearest exit.  
  
"Touchy." Pansy said to herself before she sat in Draco's empty seat. "So how did you boys sleep last night?" she asked to the Slytherin males around her who answered only with blank, confused stares. 


End file.
